


We Match

by Allswellthatends



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddles, F/M, Kisses, cause why not?, cute as heck, jon is a little creepy, mostly genyra fluff, that prompt about meeting in hospital waiting room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-24
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 07:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2015691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allswellthatends/pseuds/Allswellthatends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arya's little brother has fallen from the old Winterfell ruins near their house, he's in critical condition and the entire family is waiting to hear he's alright. Unable to take the different coping methods of her siblings, Arya escapes to an outside bench only to meet a young boy who's mother is being rushed into surgery. </p>
<p>All they want is an escape from what's happening behind the sliding hospital doors.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Match

**Author's Note:**

> Got the idea from some tumblr prompt list and one was "Meets in hospital waiting room" came up with this thought i'd be cute.

            She could feel her heart beat pounding as they ran through the rain.

            Arya’s father was pushing the stretcher running next to the doctors, her mother was trying to hold his hand, and all she could do was run behind all the hospital staff in a line of Stark children. Sansa carried little Rickon on her hip, Robb was trying to get closer to their father, but his legs just wouldn’t move fast enough and Arya was being dragged behind her much faster cousin, Jon.

            “I’m sorry sir, only parents are allowed back here.” She heard the doctor say to Robb as he tried to push through the second pair of doors after them. At least they were out of the rain.

            “Stay, Robb. And watch them.” Her father called over his shoulder before disappearing through the swinging doors and down the long hall. Robb nodded even after they were gone, his eyes stared after them, and she could see his fingers roll into fists.

            “What now?” Arya asked. She wanted someone to tell her it was going to be okay. That Bran was going to be okay.

            “Now we wait, little sister.” Jon said as he rustled her hair. He’d lived with them since he was a kid, and was as much a brother to her as Robb was.

            “But…”

            “No buts, Arya. Come on and sit down.” Robb pushed her gently to the waiting area, with its maroon seats and plastic tables it felt dreary. Posters with cliché sayings hung on the walls. But there was a cheap coffee machine and a snack one too. Arya sat next to Sansa, who was trying to hold back her tears as she held Rickon in her lap. They’re littlest brother was almost four years old, but he didn’t know what was going on and it was long past his bedtime. His little thumb stuck in his mouth as his eyes fought to stay open.

            “Sh, go to sleep, Ricky.” Sansa whispered to him, she was so much like their mother. Tall and willowy with rich auburn hair that cascaded around a sweet face, her bright, blue eyes were a more intense color at the moment from her brimming tears. Even at such a late hour her face was perfectly made up, her clothes were fit and pressed, even her nails refused to bare a scratch. Arya on the other hand had been ready to hunker down for a night of Netflix with Bran, they were going to start House of Cards, so her attire consisted of North High sweat pants that had been Jon’s and an old, oversized tee with a bear on it from Madge Mormont’s craft shop on Bear Island. Her hair was in disarray, thrown up in a messy bun, she had bags under her eyes and a wild look about her, like a feral wolf that would bite you if you moved to quickly.

            “Arya, Sansa, you guys hungry?” Robb asked from the coffee machine.

            “No.” Sansa’s voice was little over a whisper.

            “No.” Arya growled.

            “Relax, Arya. God. It was just a question.” Robb huffed under his breath.

            “You relax.” She countered, anger getting the better of her as per usual.

            Jon calmly walked over and put an arm around her. “You need to calm yourself, take some deep breaths. Bran is going to be fine.”

            “Is that what they teach you at The Wall? Some college.” She snarled at him, but her harsh tone didn’t faze him, Jon was used to how she could get when she was upset. Arya dealt with pain by either getting overly angry or very quiet and she had chosen anger that night.

            “No,” he laughed. “They teach me a lot of things, but not how to deal with this.” He looked down, Arya softened when she saw the tears in the corners of his eyes.

            “Why Bran?” She asked quietly. It was a very simple question, why the little boy who had his whole life ahead of him.  The little boy who was going to be in the army one day, just like his dad. Who loved to climb trees and the walls of the old Winterfell ruins. That had been his downfall, he had been climbing the old walls only a few minutes from the house, one tower was almost three stories tall and he’d fallen from the top of it, straight on his back.

            Jon looked over her, he was fresh out of his first year of college and was supposed to know things. More things than her at least. He was supposed to have the answers.

            “I don’t know. I really don’t, he just fell. He missed a hand hole or a foot hole and fell.” Jon’s voice was breaking.

            “Bran never falls.” She said stubbornly.

            “And yet he did.” Robb added as he stirred his coffee. He didn’t even like coffee, but he had to do something with his hands. Like always.

            “Don’t be a dick.” Arya grumbled from her seat. Robb just scoffed at her and she jumped up to go and attempt an attack but Jon’s arm was fast enough to pull her back from raking her non-existent nails down Robb’s face.

            “Arya, I think you need a moment outside.” Jon pulled her by her arm and back out into the dank night in front of the emergency room. She tried to pull out of his grasp but he was much bigger than her and much stronger. She dammed her youth and smallness, a weak girl of fourteen and no match for Jon.

            “Why does he do that? Why!? He always has to be such a dick. He…”

            “Arya, stop. He doesn’t mean it. You know he doesn’t. It’s how he copes.” Jon had his hands firmly on her shoulders, pushing her down onto the bench up next to the building. The covering over the entrance to the emergency room kept it dry, but the sound of rain was deafening.

            “Well his way of coping sucks.” She spit, it wasn’t until then that she realized she was crying.

            “I know, I know. He sucks sometimes.” Jon looked at her, trying to figure out what to do.

            “I just want him to be okay, I want him to be strong and do everything he wants to do. I…”

            “He will be okay. He will, I know it.” Jon pulled her into a hard hug as she cried for her little brother.

            They heard the sliding doors open as Robb ran out, Jon popped up but Robb’s hands went up to tell him that it wasn’t bad news.

            “Bran just went into surgery. Mom and Dad are staying back near the room. I just wanted to let you know.” He looked so tired for a boy about to graduate high school, so old for an eighteen year old.

            “Keep us posted.” Arya said curtly.

            “Arya, I’m sorry. I’m just…” Robb started to apologize but didn’t know what to say. He had to be the strong one, the leader… he was just like their father.

            “I get it. Just try and work on it.”

            “As long as you work on those little outbursts of yours.” He countered with a smile.

            “Deal.” She smiled back. Robb went back inside with a swish of the doors opening and closing. Jon started to walk after him, but Arya grabbed his sleeve. “Where you going?”

            “It’s cold out here. Ugh, I can’t believe I have to go back to school so soon, especially after all this. I’m gonna go inside with the others and keep warm.” He pulled at her as if to say follow, but her feet stayed planted. The cold never really bothered her. “My father’s side wasn’t from the north, so I figure that I just don’t have all the blood for it, which sucks considering I go to the most northern school possible.” Jon rarely mentioned his parents, ever since her father had told him his true parentage a few years back. Before then he’d thought he was just Ned’s son from before his marriage.

            “Nah, I’m going to stay out here for a while. I like the cold, winter is coming.” She pulled her tee shirt in tighter as she hugged herself. Jon shook his head and slipped off his scarf, he’d left his jacket inside or he would have given it to her. She wrapped it around her shoulders, bringing her knees up under her chin. Arya watched the rain falling on the pavement poetically as the doors swished open to let Jon through and closed behind him.

            It was eerily quiet outside the hospital, she could feel the death around her like a cloud. What was Bran doing? Why did he fall? He never falls. Since before he could walk he’d been climbing everything in his path.

            Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of an ambulance in the distance. Another one coming in, another lamb coming for the slaughter. She stayed invisible on the bench and watched as the flashing lights, too bad all the best doctors in the ER were working on her brother right now. She felt slightly bad for whoever was in that ambulance. Her family was one of the oldest northern families to date, very powerful and influential. Her father was a General in the Kings Military and was shoe in for the Prime Minister job that the other Northern representative’s had asked him to run for. The king was sure he would win, took measures so he would win and she was sure not all said measures were legal. These doctors were not going to let his son die, their careers or worse, their lives, could be at stake.

            The van pulled up and nurses ran outside with clipboards and fluids. Two men opened the doors and a few EMT’s hopped out and they pulled the stretcher down. It was a woman, in her forties, she had a loose cardigan and a linin skirt on but the scary part was the blood around her mouth that dribbled down her chin, spoiling the soft pink of her shirt and her nose was visibly broken.

            A boy jumped from the ambulance as they eased her down and started rolling the stretcher inside.

            “Please, just tell me if…” He started to ask before a nurse cut him off.

            “I can’t say. You will have to wait in the lobby. We’ll let you know if anything changes.” They disappeared behind the sliding doors, yelling medical terms that Arya didn’t understand. But he stayed, they young boy stayed and just looked at the doors, more past the doors if she was honest. But she knew what he was thinking, if he went inside, if he sat down and waited in there like so many had done before him, then that meant he would soon hear the bad news. He would soon be alone.

            “There’s a bench over here, ya know.” Arya called to him, his trance was starting to freak her out.

            “What?” He asked, shaking his head and looking over at her. He had a nice face, it was stocky and broad with bright blue eyes, a strong jaw and squared nose, framed by shaggy black hair. He was tall, not a boy really, but a young man.

            “I said…” She started to repeat with a little more bite in her voice than she intended.

            “I heard you.” He waved his hand and looked back to the sliding doors.

            “Well are you gonna just stare at them all night or go in?” Arya’s patience was thin, she didn’t have time for this. She just wanted to be alone so she didn’t have to dwell on Bran being under a doctor’s knife.

            “I can’t go in.” He said quietly, she watched as his mop of hair fell even more over his face as his head dropped to the ground.

            “Why not? The doors open by themselves and everything.” She looked away from the boy and back to the rain. Arya Stark didn’t need this tonight.

            “If I go in they’re gonna ask me for my card, my ID and our insurance.” He said as he walked over, but his eyes stayed tainted on the door.

            “So what?” She huffed as she brought her scarf up and around her neck, winter definitely was coming and soon.  

            “Then they’ll find out we don’t have any insurance.” He sat down next to her and put his head in his hands.

            “How do you not have insurance?” She asked confused. It never dawned on Arya that he might be less fortunate than he seemed, he held himself with a strength that she’d only seen in the highborn before.

            “Well, it’s one of the things about being shit poor. I work minimum wage and so did… does, does my mom. No benefits.” He’s face was streaked with tears, as he looked over at her. Arya had always been uncomfortable with other’s emotions and didn’t know what to say to the unfortunate boy sitting next to her.

            “Shouldn’t the government help you out?” She asked, trying to sound educated, that’s what she saw on the news. King Robert handing money to those of much less fortune.

            “That drunk bastard? He only cares about his wine and mistresses. Why would he give a damn about two nobodies?” He was laughing, but it was a forced sound. She didn’t know how to react, she didn’t want to laugh with him because she obviously didn’t share in his circumstance, and yet she didn’t want to stay quiet.

            “The King is okay, my dad’s old friends with him. He’s not that bad, so…”

            “You know the King?” The way he looked at her let her know she’d said the wrong thing.

            “Kinda. He knows my dad… well my dad is running for Prime minister…”

            “Are you a Stark? Cause you’re sure as hell not a Lannister.” His eye’s studied her, much like the reporters did to her father whenever they had to go to an event of some sort. She knew what he saw, a simple Stark face with sharp features and cold grey eyes, dirt brown hair that never quite grew soft and she didn’t like that he would see such a plain girl. She wanted to be interesting, like Sansa or one of the Targaran girls. But her genes didn’t gift her with unusual beauty, just the same Stark face her father had, and Jon, he had it too.

            “Arya,” she said, burying her face deeper into the scarf that smelled of home and Jon and Bran…

            “Uh, Gendry. What are you doing here?”

            “Sitting on a bench.”

            “No, at the hospital.” He smiled at her slightly and this time it seemed genuine, the way his lips curved seemed to say ‘you little shit’ without actually saying it.

            “My brother fell while climbing, he hit his head really bad and his back. He’s in surgery right now.” She felt her hands start to shake.

            Gendry took it in with a nod. “My mom had an attack and fell down the stairs, she landed face first… I was coming home from work but I don’t know how long she was just laying there at the bottom of the stairs.” He was doing the whole staring at nothing thing again. She could see it on his face that he blamed himself, the guilt was oozing from him.

            “I’m sorry.” Arya didn’t know what to say. Should she pat his back like Robb sometimes did for her when she tripped trying to keep up with him? Or was just staring at nothing like he was a better option?

            “It’s not the first time it’s happened.” He said softly, she could swear there was a break in his voice. Arya was afraid to look, she didn’t like watching others cry.

            “Is she sick?” Probing was not usually her method, she was much more of a grin and take it type. But something about this boy made her curious in a way she’d never been before.

            He shrugged, “Yeah, she’s had bipolar for a long time and sometimes she takes drugs to help but when she doesn’t she takes… well other stuff and it can mess with her and she gets these seizures…” Gendry’s hand ran through his hair, mussing up his shaggy black locks and giving him a crazed look. “I try and watch out for her, but it’s hard cause I’m trying to get through school and working two jobs… there’s just not enough time in the day.” Arya felt a pity come over her, a realization that she couldn’t even imagine those kinds of hardships. She did something completely out of character and put her hand on his leg as a comfort. “I’m sorry, I don’t usually tell people ‘bout this stuff. It’s just been a rough night that’s all.”

            “No, I get it. Well I don’t get it… I can’t have any idea what you’re going through, really.” She bit her lip, not knowing where to take the conversation.

            “Sure you do, your brother is hurt and you’re worrying just the same.”

            “Yeah, I guess.” Arya stared out into the rain, it was a depressing night, and the moon was new so blackness enveloped everything outside the light of the hospital.

            Her hand stayed on him, and without noticing she was gripping the fabric on his pants with iron fingers, her fear of Bran’s fate getting the better of her. From the corner of her eye she saw him look down at her white knuckles and place his hand over hers, effectively holding her hand with a grip to match her own.

            They held onto each other, these two strangers in the rain outside Winterfell Seven’s Hospital.

            The silence was giving her leave to think about her brother more and more so she broke it with something to keep her mind off what was going on inside.

            “Do you go to North?”

            “Is that the High School?” He asked confused.

            “Yeah, it’s where I go.”

            “I’m only up her for the summer. My mom has a gig on Bear Island, she works in a craft shop. I go to FB High School in the capital.”

            “FB?”

            “Flea Bottom, it’s the public school. The wealthy kids go to some fancy prep school run by the Faith of the Seven.” He laughed a little. “It’s not that bad, just gotta stay out of trouble.”

            Arya didn’t know what to say, the school was called Flea Bottom… it sounded so grimy. So separate. In the North all the kids went to the same district, there was boarding for those who lived too far out to commute. And some smaller cities had their own districts, but most just went to North.

            “What grade are you in?”

            “About to be a junior. You?”

            “Freshman.” She bit her lip again.

            “Really? You seem older.” He laughed again, it was a rough laugh, almost like the King’s.

            “I’m mature for my age, but I’m only two years younger than you.” She countered, she hated when people underestimated her because of her age.

            “I’ve noticed, and yeah, two years isn’t much.”

            “Do you play sports?”

            “What’s with the twenty questions?” He laughed again, and she smiled. It was nice to forget what was happening inside.

            “Just answer the question.”

            “Of course M’lady.” He laughed and that and Arya used her other hand to punch him in the arm. “Ow! That’s not proper for a lady.”

            “I’m not a lady!”

            He laughed again before answering. “I tried football, but I find I’m better at other things. Art and stuff, I’m a sculptor.” Arya smiled again, so many hidden treasures in this boy from the south.

            “I fence, nationally ranked.” She let herself be smug for a moment.

            “I bet your great, and quick. I could make you a sword, I like working with iron and steel… like you’re eyes. They remind me of steel.”

            “Because they’re cold?” She asked with a slight laugh.

            “No! Steel sings, it’s alive. There’s fire in it. Like you.”

            “Oh.” She let herself smile at that.

            “So I’ll make you a sword.”

            “That would be fantastic, I could give it a name just like they did in the olden times.” She beamed.

            He took the hand he was holding and turned it over, his eyes scanned her calloused palm, the hardest parts right in between her thumb and fingers. The pad of his thumb ran over it and her other callouses, his brow knitting together.

            “What is it? Didn’t expect rough hands from a _lady_?” She joked.

            Gendry shook his head, “We match,” he flipped his hand over and showed her the calloused and hard skin that covered his palm.

            “Wow…” It was her turn to trace his hand with her small fingers, she touched his callouses gently and found a few minor burns around his fingers. “Do you work with fire a lot?”

            “Yeah, when I get a chance to work on my art it’s all suturing and melting metal here and there.” He shrugged.

            “So you’re like a modern day blacksmith?” She poked his side and he retaliated with his own tickle.

            “And you’re a modern day knight, eh?”

            “Stop! Agh, I can’t take that.” She hooted, trying to evade his attack.

            “Alright, whatever _m’lady_ commands.” He couldn’t say it with a straight face.

            “You stop that!” She tried to sound commanding but was unable to stay stern with him and fell into laughter along with him. He rolled on top of her as they fell off the bench and into the gravel. She was able to keep him rolling and gained the upper hand for a split moment. Gendry’s hands gripped her hips, flipped her under him and he leaned up on his elbow with the smug look of victory on his face.

            “You started it.” He confessed with a chuckle.

            “Oh, so you ended it?”

            “Something like that.” His finger bopped her nose lightly and he just looked at her. Arya felt the gravel digging into her back but she didn’t care, the way he was looking at her made her heart stop for a moment and forget where she was.

            Their little bubble of peace was disrupted as the sliding door opened and a nurse ran out.

            “Mr. Waters?” She called in their direction.

            “Yes?” He immediately jumped up and ran over to her. Arya hadn’t heard his last name before then, and she knew what it meant. In the old days when a child was born when the parents weren’t married they took the bastard’s name for their region. Sometimes the faith won’t baptize bastards unless they take the name, they still preach that they’re dammed by the Seven. Gendry’s mother must have stuck with the tradition and given him the bastard name of the Capitol region.  

            Arya was out of earshot but she watched as intently as she could, the nurse was hunched over and hugging herself in the brisk wind that had picked up, Gendry was nodding as she spoke. The nurse patted his shoulder and said one more thing before disappearing through the doors again.

            Gendry didn’t move he stood with his shoulders hunched over. Arya feared for him, she didn’t want him to loose his mom, she could guess how devastating something like that is and he already had a difficult enough life… none of the gods could be this cruel. That was the worse thing ever, to loose a parent or a sibling… her mind shot back to Bran, she didn’t want to think about how it would affect everyone if he died… how it would affect her.

            He wasn’t moving. She stared, afraid to say anything, they’d only known each other for an hour or so and he might be going through one of the most difficult moments of his life… but he had no one else. Arya looked around, expecting for a moment that his father would appear out of nowhere and hug him and tell him that it’ll be okay. _The lone wolf dies, the pack survives._ The age old saying stuck in her head and kept repeating itself. He needs a pack, she thought.

            Just as she was going to get up to go talk to him he fell, it was as if someone had knocked his legs out from under him. She ran over to him as he knelt on the hard cement.

            Arya was almost amazed at herself as she embraced him, his face was red and puffy from crying and his body racked with sobs.

            “It’s gonna be okay, Gendry.” She whispered to him.

            “No, it’s not.” He cried. As he stood she fell off him and he started pacing. “I don’t even have enough money to bury her!” He yelled. Arya just watched him, she understood outbursts and knew that they just needed time to defuse. “I have no money to even buy a ticket back to the city! She spent it all on drugs and left me with nothing. Now I’m going to be put in the system and I’ll be sent to some foster home or worse… And she’s dead. Actually dead this time… you know I’ve prayed for this? How fucked up is that? I prayed for my own mother’s death before, and now that it’s happened I feel like I damned her.”

            “Oh don’t do that to yourself! She was an addict, there’s nothing you could have done!” Arya yelled at him, he was taken aback by her tone, by her strength with words to match his own anger and hurt.

            “Now they want me to go in there and look at her and sign papers saying she can be ashed up and thrown into an unmarked grave all because her no good son has no money to give her a proper funeral.” He had tears running down his face and through the scruff on his neck.

            “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I know you’re going to be okay.” She used her stern voice, the one she learned from her father.

            “I don’t have a family, Arya.”

            “I can be your family.”

            He stared at her, confusion taking over his desolate features. Then he shook his head. “No, Arya. You can only ever be m’lady.”

            “What the hell does that mean?”

            “I’m a bastard, a piss poor nobody who has no where to go. You’re a Stark. There’s a difference.”

            “I don’t see one.” She said stubbornly

            “You have the luxury of that.”

            “Oh, so you’re playing that card?” She was mad, all she wanted to do is help. This boy with his dark eyes and his feverish laugh made her mad and happy in a way she didn’t know was possible. She didn’t want him to just disappear.

            “I have the luxury of playing any card I want.” He snapped back at her, she almost jumped back he was the first person who could match her fire, blow for blow.

            “Why is that?” She screamed moving forward on the attack.

            “MY MOTHER IS DEAD.” His breathe raked over her face as he met her, in nose a mere inch from hers. She couldn’t help the tears that started down her cheeks that wetted her neck and fueled her embarrassment.

            “Oh, Arya… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” He raised his hands as if to wipe her tears but he stopped himself.

            “I’m not crying.” She said turning away from him, trying to hide her tears and angry eyes full of hurt.

            “Sure you aren’t.” He reached for her and usually she was fast enough to evade capture when upset but his big hand wrapped around her upper arm and pulled her back. He hugged her, tight and forcefully until she gave into it and hugged him back. She’d read about this once, the stranger on a plane phenomenon, how it’s easier to spill your worries and fears to a complete stranger than to someone you know.

            “Arya!” Jon’s voice echoed through the dense air, causing her and Gendry to jump apart. Jon gave her a quizzical look, but just shook his head and kept talking.

            “He’s stable. He’s gonna live.”

            Arya started crying again, unable to control her emotions for once in her life. She could see out of the corner of her eye that Gendry was smiling for her.

            The doors slid open again and the same nurse from before came out. “Mr. Waters? The doctor is ready for you.” She motioned for him to follow.

            “I’ll be right in.” She nodded and reentered the hospital.

            “I’m sorry… It’s not fair I know…” Arya started to say to him before he was able to cut her off.

            “It’s life, Arya. Now go be with your family, and I’ll go be with the ghost of mine.” He ruffled her hair and kissed her cheek before running inside.

            Jon stood there staring at her with an angry expression on his face.

            She sniffled. “What?”

            “Who was that?” His voice had a cut to it.

            “A friend, his mom was in the ICU and I don’t know, we were talking…”

            “Whatever, Arya. Just don’t hang around with him anymore. You belong with your family.” He walked over to her and pulled her back towards the doors.

            “Jon. You can’t tell me what to do.” She snarled as she pulled from his grasp.

            “Bran is alive and well and he needs all of us! You’re out here _flirting!_ Are you kidding me?” She had never seen Jon this angry before, especially not with her.

            “I wasn’t flirting! We were talking! I couldn’t be in there with Robb’s fake strength and Sansa’s properness and you sulking around! I couldn’t breathe in there so I came out here and Gendry showed up! He went through some pretty deep shit tonight too so we talked to take our minds off it!” Arya was screaming by the end of it until it dawned on her how strange it was for Jon to be reacting this way.

            “Did he touch you?” Her cousin asked her sternly.

            “Why do you care so much?”

            “You didn’t answer the question.”

            “Neither did you, Jon. Why does it bother you so much? I’m going into high school, boys are bound to be in the picture at some point.” Arya didn’t mean for her tone to be so biting but it usually was when she was annoyed.

            “You think I have a problem with you and boys?” Jon’s face looked amused but his eyes were serious, Arya couldn’t read him.

            “Do you?” Robb would have seen it laughed and walked away, just like he did when he caught Sansa with Joffery that one time before she discovered what a prick he was.         

            “Yes, I do.” He admitted quietly.

            “Why?”

            “Don’t push it, Arya.” He had turned so she couldn’t see his face. _Not here, of all times._ She thought with dismay, ever since he found out his true parentage he’d been weird around her. Her Aunt Lyanna’s fling with Rhaegar Targaren had caused a nation wide fiasco that led to the hostile take over by the Baratheons and the military execution of the Targaren King. Her father had been a key player in the whole thing, and had lost three family members to the war. When Jon found out that he was not only Lyanna’s son but Rhaegar’s as well he became more introverted and thoughtful about his life and what he wanted to do. And he’d started acting differently around the family, mostly her.

            “No, I’m going to push. Why do you care if I was talking to a boy? Why have you been so god damned weird since you found out about your parents?” She took a deep breath, a part of her didn’t want to know. But she had to hear him say it, she had to. “Why do you look at me differently?”

            “Why do you think, Arya?” His eyes were sad. She knew her mother would have an aneurism, her father would throw him out. He was five years older than her, and she didn’t know if she could ever feel that way about him. Plus he had a girl at college from Wildland, Yggrite was her name and she had red hair. How could little plain Arya compete with that? Why would she want to compete for her _brother_?

            “Say it.”

            “Don’t do this, not now.”

            “I need to hear you say it.”

            “I love you. I want you.” His voice sounded so defeated, Arya just nodded and walked right past him and back into the waiting area. The rest of the family was there, including her parents.

            “Have you been out in the rain this whole time?” Her mother asked, worry lacing her voice. But she was too exhausted to scold her for putting herself at risk for a cold.

            “There was a cover, I just needed fresh air. How is he?” Arya looked around at her family, she was so lucky to have them all. Even Sansa.

            “He’s stable and doing well. We don’t know what the final damage will be, but we do know he’ll never walk again.” Her father answered her with a solemn tone. She walked right up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist and he hugged her back hard. A good hug, a strong hug, a Stark hug.      

            “There’s Olympics for people in wheelchairs, you know. Bran will do that, he’ll be great.” She said through her tears.

            “He’ll be great.” Her father agreed.

            “How much?!” Her head snapped up as she heard Gendry’s voice at the front desk. “Three hundred stags just to pick up her ashes? Are you kidding me?”

            Arya detached from her father and ran over to the desk, Gendry’s eyes were puffy and his hands were shaking as he rustled through his pocket for his wallet, he pulled out three silver bills. “I have thirty on me, and only about fifty back home.”

            “I’m sorry, Mr. Waters. But the coroner won’t release the body until the fine is paid. If you had insurance then it would only be fifty…”

            “Have you seen the fucking economy, lady? I work two minimum wage jobs! Those types don’t have benefits.” He ran his hand through his hair a few times, as if he was trying to tame himself.

            “Excuse me? What’s the problem here?” Her father’s voice silenced the room.

            Gendry looked up, as if he was about to give her father some serious sass, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw he was standing face to face with Ned Stark.

            “Uh, well. His mother’s ashes won’t be released to him until he pays the coroners fines. It’s protocol, sir.” The nurse behind the counter said softly.

            “How old are you, son?”

            “Sixteen, sir.” Gendry’s voice was broken.

            Ned looked at him with disbelieving eyes. He was studying the boy, trying to see something in him. “Do you have a picture of your mother?” Gendry’s brow furrowed at the question, confusion clearly written on his face.

            “Uh, yeah. It’s in here.” He reached into his wallet and pulled out an old Polaroid picture of a beautiful woman holding a little blue eyed boy.

            Ned surveyed the picture for a minute before looking back at Gendry and nodding. “That’s what I thought.”

            “Sir?”

            “Put the ashes charge on my bill for Bran.” He told the nurse with a smile.

            “Yes, sir. But the boy will have to stay here until social services arrives.” She said tentatively.

            “No he won’t, he’ll be coming with us.”

            “Uh, sir…”

            “It’s alright, I’m going to take him to his father. It’s about time he took responsibility for one of his bastards.” She watched Gendry flinch at the word but a smile was creeping onto his face anyways.

            “Mr. Stark? You know my father?”

            “You’re the spitting image of him when he was your age, I should know, considering we grew up together. And I remember him showing me a picture of your mom. No doubt in my mind.” Ned patted him on the shoulder, but Gendry was having trouble moving. Arya grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the family, ignoring the glare from Jon.            

            “Arya? Is your father saying what I think he’s saying?”

            “What’s that?” She leaned her head over so she would hear him while her parents talked.

            “That my father is the King?”

            “I guess I should start calling you m’lord, then.” She elbowed him.

            “Stop that. I’m still just a Waters.” Gendry glanced down at her hand around his, she nudged him to get his attention back on the matter at hand.

            “You’ll come back home with us for now. I’ll get in touch with your father and get everything sorted.” He patted Gendry on the back. “Cat, dear, I’ll take the kids home. Are you going to stay?”

            “I am. The nurse already had a cot brought in for me. I’m here until he wakes.” Her mother’s eyes were red and puffy, her hands were twisting in each other and she wouldn’t look anyone in the eye.

            “Stay rested, dear. I’ll be back tomorrow.” He kissed her on the head. Arya knew that her mother and father married in a time of war, she’d been engaged to his older brother, but she’d still married into the Stark family from her father’s demand. Things were different back then, the upper class didn’t marry for love, but for connections and allies. Even though they’d married under orders from above, they’d grown to love each other like no other couple she’d ever seen. Arya didn’t believe in stupid things like romance and happy endings, that was Sansa’s thing, but when she saw them together, not on camera, she knew that love was real and they personified it wholly.

            “Get some sleep, kids. It’ll all be okay.” She said quietly before leaning up to kiss Ned, and moved around to kiss each kid on the head. “Be strong.” She whispered to Arya before disappearing behind the doors and back to Bran’s bedside.            “Lets go.” Her father’s ushered them all out and into the car, it was still the early morning so the sun hadn’t risen yet. They were all silent on the way home, Sansa was holding Rickon who was snoring softly, Jon stared out the window with annoying angst written on his face and Robb sat in the front speaking quietly with her father. She was in the far back sitting next to Gendry, he seemed lost in his thoughts, and she didn’t know how to reach him when he was in his own world.

            They got back to the house and Roderick helped them inside, Sansa took the babe right to bed and Jon disappeared to his wing. Robb and her father were still speaking in hushed tones.   

            “Gendry, follow Arya she’ll show you to a guest room. Get some sleep, all of you.” Arya nodded, grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him towards her and Sansa’s wing. There was a guest bedroom right next to hers and she new that the sheets would be clean and there would be fresh towels in the bathroom.

            “Here’s you.” She said gesturing to the door. He looked at her and then opened the glass handle.

            “This is bigger than my entire home back in the city.” He said with amusement on his face.                        

            “Oh, is it okay?” She asked a little nervous.

            “No, its great. It’s perfect. I’ll just go climb into that king sized bed that looks really comfortable…” He sat on it and fell back, kicking his shoes off and relaxing into the mattress.

            Arya smiled as he huddled under the covers and squirmed to get comfortable, Gendry kicked the covers off and sat up.

            “It’s too soft.” He laughed, running his hand through his hair. She just shrugged and stayed in the doorway, leaning up against the frame. Arya could feel the fatigue weighing down on her.

            “You’ll get over it I’m sure.” She said through a yawn. He smiled at her and fell back onto the mattress again and in a few minutes he was sleeping.

            The room was cold, as usual, the Starks kept the house cold most of the time. She didn’t want him to wake up from being to cold, especially after everything he’d been through. So she walked with her lightest step over the bed and pulled the cover over him, effectively tucking him in. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, she didn’t know someone who seemed so hard could look so calm. Is this what she looked like when she was asleep?

            The scene from the hospital flashed back into her head, her father gently kissing her mother’s head. Arya hadn’t really thought about boys before, she didn’t know how romance or flirting worked, but she did know what his hand on hers made her feel. She leaned down and kissed his forehead, his hair smelled like cinnamon and there was something of a metallic aroma too.

            “Cute.” Jon’s voice pierced the static air. Arya sneered at him and marched out of the room and into her own. She had posters of fencers on the wall and her dire-wolf Nym sat at the foot of her bed. The wolf’s ears perked up as they walked in the room.

            Jon closed the door behind him.

            “Did I invite you in?” She snapped, her head was starting to hurt from sleep deprivation. She’d binged Spartacus the night before and her eyes were starting to water from staying open for so long.

            “Do I have to be invited in now?” He leaned up against the wall, his curly blackish hair falling over his face before he pushed it back… so much like Gendry.

            “Yes. Yes, you do.” Arya sat on her bed and crossed her arms. “Now leave.”

            “Don’t be rude.” He smiled at her and walked over. She started petting Nym so she didn’t have to look at him, her patience was at an end and she just wanted to go to sleep.

            Jon stood in front of her, he was so close it made her squirm. She didn’t like being alone with him after that whole confession at the hospital.

            “Can you please go? I’m really tired.” She didn’t have time for this it was sleep time.

            “I think we have to talk about this.”

            “No we never have to mention it again.” She snapped, still focused on Nym.

            “Yes, we do.” He crossed his arms, her mirror.

            “Why?”

            “So in ten years we don’t end up fucking in the coat closet during Christmas dinner.” He said it so nonchalantly that she almost brushed it off.

            “What the hell?” She stood up so quickly that she didn’t take time to adjust to the limited space and ended up almost falling back on the bed before his hands gripped her upper arms.   

            “Arya. I don’t know what to do about this.” He was looking at her with that look he did when he was confused and sad, so his usual face. But she’d seen him smile before so many times and when it came to her family she couldn’t see them sad.

            “Just stop. It can’t be that hard.” She wanted to move away but he was still gripping her arms.

            “Arya, you can’t just turn it off! I can’t help that I have fucking dreams about you. I can’t help that every time I see you I want to kiss you or push you up against the wall and…” He let go of her and turned away.

            “Jon.” She didn’t know what to say to him, all of this scared her beyond measure. Her mind was just starting to wrap around the idea of boys and romance and her possibly being a part of that part of life. “I can’t do this… it’s too much. You’re too much with all this. I’m fourteen for fucks sake.”

            “I don’t care.”

            “Well you should care cause of reasons.” She crossed her arms again and stared him down, his back was hunched and twisted like an unbent corkscrew about to snap back into place.

            “No. I won’t care.” He twisted around and grabbed her face in his hands, she instinctually wrapped her hands around his wrists in defense. “My father didn’t care when he ran away with my mom. He shot caution to the wind and took off for love.”

            “Yes, and that love started one of the most bloody wars in our history and ended with both of them dead.”

            “But at least they actually lived instead of going through the blind actions of life like all the rest of them.” He almost screamed it but had to remind himself that everyone else was asleep.           

            “Stop! Jon, just stop. I’m tired and confused and I don’t want to deal with you right…”

            He cut her off with a hard kiss on her mouth, he tasted like mint and snow with a fire in his breath that reminded her of dragons. Arya couldn’t help but breathe in the sent of him and the feel of him, she let herself go for a moment.

            “What the hell?” She pushed him away. “You stole my first kiss! How dare you!” Their flesh made contact with a snap as her hand slapped across his face.

            “I just thought.” He started before the door opened and Gendry was yawning as he stepped in.

            “Hey Arya I couldn’t sleep and I heard talking so…” He spotted Jon and looked at Arya confused. “But if I’m interrupting you…?”

            “No you’re not, Jon just came to say goodnight and now he’s leaving.” She sat back on the bed and gave him a look as if to say ‘well go.’

            Jon gave her a last look before storming past Gendry and slamming the door.           

            “I feel like I walked into the middle of something.” He laughed with another yawn.

            “You seem exhausted. Why aren’t you asleep?” She patted the spot on the bed next to her.

            “I don’t know. Reasons.” He sat next to her and Nym moved so her head rested on his lap. He started petting her and she purred. A smile moved up the corners of Arya’s mouth, if Nym liked him that was a good enough sign for her.

            “She likes you.” Arya patted her head on his lap.            

            “She’s a good pup. She learned from a good… girl? Person?” He stumbled and fell right over his sentence.

            “You should go to sleep, you’re not making sense.” Arya leaned back and curled up against her pillow, it was her favorite one, with a giant wolf on it howling at a moon on the other big pillow on the bed.          

            “Hmm, yeah sleep sounds good.” He scooted himself to the other side of the bed and snuggled up against the moon pillow.

            “What are you doing?”

            “Sleeping. Or trying to.” He rolled over so he faced her.

            “In _my_ bed.” He looked just like he did when he was sleeping, peaceful. She couldn’t just kick him out… and she didn’t want to. Jon made her feel violated and uncut. Gendry was more like a warm hug, a home.

            “It’s better than mine.” He laughed trying to quiet it but failing. “And don’t worry I’ll be back in my rightful place before anyone notices.”

            “Okay. Well I can’t keep my eyes open much longer so… night. Or morning or whatever.” She closed her eyes and it took less than a second for sleep to claim her. In her dreams she was running as a wolf through the woods near her house. She ran and ran with her pack until she looked behind her and the pack was gone, she was on the edge of the woods looking into a field. In the field was a bull, he was large with mighty horns and a coat the color of pitch. She stalked up to him and rubbed against his leg, the bull huffed but laid down on the soft grass, she sniffed his metallic fur before curling up against him and closing her eyes…

            Arya woke up and could smell cinnamon and metal all around her. The weight of an arm was slung over her waist, she felt legs tangled in her own and she knew it was Gendry. It felt like they fit, like two parts of the same living thing. Even his nose was pressed against her head, blowing hot air onto her neck with each exhale.  

            She closed her eyes again and snuggled into him, a smile painted on her lips.

            When she woke up in the afternoon her stomach was cold, she wined and flipped to find nothing beside her. He’d said he would be gone before anyone found him in her bed. She laughed at the thought of her father walking in on the boy he’d just let into his home all shacked up with his youngest daughter.

            She made her way down to the kitchen to get some cereal and maybe watch an episode of Bobs Burgers or something. When she got there Robb was pouring Gendry a glass of orange juice and Sansa was looking perfectly disheveled as ever.

            “Morning, Arya.” Robb said with a bitter cheeriness.

            “Where’s dad?” She asked rubbing her eye and glancing at Gendry. Robb didn’t miss the look she gave him, she saw a little smile creep onto his face.

            “He went to the hospital and then the office. I think he’s calling the King about…” He elbowed Gendry who smiled timidly.

            “Mr. Waters, your bag.” Rodrick handed him a dingy backpack, he thanked him and dug around in if for his phone. It was a flip phone with a bunch of keys attached to the corner, the one thing that stood out was an iron bull head key chain. Arya’s breathe stopped when she saw it swinging.    

            “What’s this?” Sansa asked as she reached across the breakfast bar for it.

            “I made it, it’s just a little symbol I came up with. I grew up learning about the great old houses and how they had these sigils and things so I kinda made one for myself.” He smiled at his little creation.

            “You don’t need your own, now. You’re a stag!” Robb patted him on the back.

            “No he’s not.” Arya interrupted. “He’ll never be like that mean old fart. He’s not like Robert, he might look like him or whatever, but he’s his own thing. His own bull. Not a stag like those mean people. He’s not like Joffery or the King.”

            They were all staring at her, Robb had a shocked look on his face, Sansa looked personally offended and Gendry was just staring at her with a slight smile on his face.

            “Arya! To talk about the king that way…”

            “No, she’s right. He might be my dad but I’m nothing like him. I’m still just the kid who grew up in Flea Bottom on Steel Street.” Gendry cut Sansa off.

            “I like you.” Robb said with a smirk. Arya didn’t miss how he then glanced at her and winked, as if giving his blessing. She just stuck her tongue out at him.

            “Play nice, kids.” Ned’s voice boomed joyfully across the living room. “Bran’s awake and talking. He’ll be home in a few days.”

            Everyone cheered and let out signs of relief.

            “And as for you Mr. Waters, I spoke with Robert this morning.” Gendry’s throat was tight, Arya watched as Sansa and Robb took the cue to leave but she couldn’t make herself get up from the stool, she had to hear.

            “Did he know?” Gendry asked looking at her father, his eyes were hard and dark, worry strewn through them.

            “He did. He’s kept track of his bastards quite well. Robert said your mother was one of the prettiest women he’d ever seen, she was young and full of life. He met her right after his crowning… they were together for almost three years.” Ned smiled at the thought of Robert being happy, Gendry just looked blank. Arya knew what must have been going through his mind that his mom knew, that she’d always known. “I met your mother back then, once in passing. She was lovely in her youth, long black hair with piercing blue eyes that were almost grey and he looked at her like she was living gold.” Her fathers warm laugh filled the stale air, but Gendry wasn’t smiling. “He told me that when you were born he went to see your mother and he held you, he said that you looked like his son, like a Baratheon should look.”

            “He only slept with my mom because she looked like your sister, Mr. Stark. At least when she was younger she did.” Gendry said it to the table, with his brows knitted together so tight that they seemed as if they’d burst.

            Ned was taken aback, but kept his composure, he nodded as he accepted it. “I do recall him saying that you looked like a child of his and Lyanna’s, how their child would have looked. But I think you’re just the spitting image of him.” Ned stood and walked behind Gendry whose hands had covered his face as he leaned on the counter. “He wants to see you, now that he knows you have nothing. He’s on his way here right now.”

            Arya was looking at him as his shoulders started to shake. He was crying. She watched as her father put his hands on the boy’s shoulders as a comfort. Before he nodded to Arya and walked out.

            “Gendry.” Before she could stop herself she’d gotten up and wrapped her arms around him from behind. She wasn’t as tall as her dad, but she was able to rest her cheek against his back and hear his heartbeat.

            “I just… I don’t know… I can’t face him.” The shaking boy squeaked out in between his tears. “It’s all too much, with mom gone and now he’s gonna play caring dad while in his head he’s trying to figure out a way to shut this up.”

            “No. No he won’t do that, my father won’t let that happen.” She growled into him.   

            “He would and he will and then I’ll be shit out of luck.”

            “I won’t let them.” He turned and looked at her with a fire in his eyes.

            Gendry stood so quickly that she almost lost her balance and grabbed her hand, dragging her behind him as he walked out the sliding glass door that led outside.

            “Where are we going?” She asked, confused at his sudden gusto.

            “I just wanna talk with you without one of your family members walking in.” He laughed and before she knew it they were in the woods, near the ruins of the old Winterfell.

            “This is where my family lived for hundreds of years, all the way back to Brandon the Builder.” She said as she looked at the round walls that were falling down after years of disrepair.

            “You can trace your family back to the first men… maybe the children before them… I can’t even tell you who my grandparents are.” He ran his hand through his hair again, something Arya was starting to enjoy watching more than she should.

            “Not true. You’re family goes back to the Andals and all that, they’re a great family too.” She punched his arm playfully and started towards the ruins.

            “Is this where Bran fell?” He asked gently.

            “Over on the other side. He was climbing the high tower.” She answered just as soft, but Bran was okay.

            “I don’t consider myself a Baratheon, you know.”

            “Why not? Jon considers himself a Targaren.” He’d never said it out loud but she knew he did.

            “Cause I don’t want to be, I want to be my own person.” He sat on a crumbling stonewall. It was eerily beautiful in the center of the ruins, nature had started to take back what man had claimed.

            “You are. That’s what I like about you.”  She smiled at him, all teeth and sarcasm.

            “So you’re saying you like me?” His laugh was like music instead of the coughing brute she’d heard before.

            Her fist made contact with his arm again. “Yeah. I do.” His smile was all it took for her to feel a million flutters in her stomach.

            “Good.” He stood up and kissed her, his hand on her cheek, sliding down her neck and his other holding her back so she pressed against him in a devilish fashion. Arya returned his efforts with her arm crawling up his back and her other hand wrapping in the base of his pitch colored hair. The kiss was deep and passionate, not like her forced experience with Jon, it was whole and felt like coming home.

            “You’re my first kiss.” She said when they let up for air.

            “You’re lying.” He kissed her nose , but refused to let her go.

            She smiled, in a way she was… but she’d rather remember this as her first kiss. “Have you done this before?”

            “Yeah, a few times and a little further.” He almost giggled.

            “Gendry… are you saying you’ve…?”

            “Arya. Yes, I’ve had sex. Its fucking fun, why would I wait?” His nose ran down the side of her face, tracing her jaw.

            “Well then… look at me first kiss and you’re…”

            He cut her off with a rough kiss and pulled her into one of the falling down rooms, there was a great old fireplace, Arya thinks it might have once been the smithy.

            “Whew. Okay there.” She rolled out of his hold and leaned against the wall for some air.

            “Are you sure you’re new to this?” He asked with a smirk on his face.

            “Damn sure. But now that I’ve had a piece I just want the whole fucking cake.” She pulled his shirt so he was flush against her, that was the first time Arya noticed a hardness pressing against her stomach. “You want me.”

            “Hell yes, I want you. I’ve never wanted someone more.” He kissed her neck. “And I don’t think I’ll want someone else again.”

            “Teach me… I’ve never felt this way before. I want you, so teach me how to want… it” She was pulling on him, a part of her was pulling his shirt off and before she knew it she was running her hands over his toned stomach. Just like his hands he had burns and scars everywhere.

            “Whoa, Arya!” Gendry grabbed her wrists and looked into her eyes. “Lets take this slow, I get that’s not how you like to do things but can we, please?” His soft smile melted her and she nodded.

            “But, why? Aren’t guys supposed to want this?” Her confusion was written on her face, from everything she’d overheard Sansa talking about or Theon joking with Robb about was that guys wanted sex and a lot of it.

            “Everyone wants sex, Arya. But you have to do it right. Especially when you have someone special.” He touched her face, ever so softly dragging his thumb down her jawline.

            “So you want to wait so we can know each other better?” She asked trying to understand, but it was difficult to think when he was touching her like that.

            “And so we can be together in a real bed, you don’t deserve a forest floor in ruin. I want to experience it all with you.” He kissed her forehead and she hugged him pressing her head against his chest. Arya liked hearing his heartbeat, it made her feel at home.

            “You’re way to good for me.” She whispered so quietly she almost hoped he wouldn’t hear her. But his laugh shook her head on his chest and she felt him kiss her hair.

            “Nah, you’re the one out of my league.”

            “Lies.” She leaned up and kissed him longer, but softer than before. They stayed there for a long time. They lost themselves in kisses and hungry hands, anchoring onto each other and refusing to let go. Soft autumn breezes rushed through their little sanctuary as they tried to forget his impending meeting with his royal father and her uncut brother trying to claim her for his own. Arya had never felt so safe with someone as she did with him, she knew the lone wolf died, and from this day forward she would never be alone.


End file.
